LOVE TRIP: Romantic Adventures with CARTER DAVIS, hero of Kisses Don’t Lie…

Click here to read previous chapters:
Chapter 1 - The Meeting
Chapter 2 - Are You Scared?

And the story continues…

CHAPTER 3:  My Place or Yours?

My place or yours?  That’s the question on my lips as Security Guy and I gaze into each other’s eyes.  The answer has to be “my house,” obviously, and I suppose I shouldn’t just assume he’s here for that.  Still, I hadn’t allowed him to do the gentlemanly thing and pick up my panties, so the least I can do is invite him to my home.  Yes?   Plus, his house is 1,200 miles away—give or take a hundred or two—or a mere 2.5 hours by plane, but either way, the look in his eyes tells me he doesn’t intend to leave town anytime soon.  Wishful sigh.  And I have to admit, I rather like the idea of being escorted about town by a man who can make heads spin.  Kitsap has never before experienced a man like Carter Davis.

“Would you like to come back to my place for a cup of blueberry tea?” I ask him.  Tea?   Tea?  Geez, you’d think I could come up with something a little more enticing than a cup of flavored hot water.  Like would you care to come back home with me so I can model my new Vicki’s for you?  I grin at my naughtiness, wishing I was brave enough to actually utter those words.  I grin again.  If such a thing had come out of my mouth, instead of an invite to tea, I’m sure Security Guy would be giving me a sultry lip curl right now, rather than a raised eyebrow.  But, oh well, the damage is done, so I stand my ground and do my best to keep a straight face as I await his answer.

And without so much as a lip quiver, he says, “You bet, honey.  Lead the way.”

Uh, lead the way?  It’s suddenly painfully obvious that Security Guy doesn’t have a clue who he’s dealing with.  Asking me to lead the way can only lead to trouble.  No one ever, ever asks me to lead the way.  No one who knows me, anyway.  Why?  Because we’d never get to our destination.  I’m not your average girl.  I need written directions any time I go somewhere unfamiliar—including directions on how to get back home.  But we are in Kitsap and I have lived here for two years now, so no problem.

I pay for my new panties and, as I’m standing there, I feel Security Guy’s body heat warming my backside.  A little shiver zips up my spine at the idea of him seeing me in silky black lace.  I’m not quite sure if it’s fear or just eager anticipation, but— Wait a minute!  I am so getting ahead of myself.  For one thing, Security Guy, for the most part, is supposed to be nothing more than a character in my book.  He’s fictional.  Yeah, yeah…I know he’s standing right, um, behind me, but still, most—at least 99.9 percent—of what I wrote about him in Kisses Don’t Lie was pure elaboration.  Still, if he and I get cozy, how will I keep my perspective while I’m writing the sequel?  How can I hook him up with Bailey if I want him for myself?  The very idea makes me drag my tongue across my lips.

“Where’s your car?” I ask Security Guy and he tugs on a lock of my hair, then wraps it around one of his fingers.

“I flew,” he says.  “Took a town car from the airport.  Guess that means I’m all yours, honey.”  He grins and waggles his eyebrows at me and I get the feeling he just may be here for that.  With his finger still stuck in my hair, he pulls me close.  “What are we waiting for?”

I hear a giggle off to one side and I don’t even need to look to know that he and I are creating a scene, becoming a spectacle.  He is, after all, dressed in Security Guy attire.  Black, from head to toe, including his hair, and though I can’t possibly know for sure, I’m guessing he’s just the kind of man who’d go commando.

As he holds me, I feel something hard pressed against my abdomen.  Could it be his special friend?  No, not that friend. I’m thinking it’s his .38 Special.  But why would he bring it with him to small town, Washington?  He doesn’t need to be Security Guy here.  And how the heck did he get it past airport security?  Never mind, a normal person like me can’t possibly understand all those secret goings on.  But if he only knew what that kind of power does to me…  Even so, I give myself a quick piece of advice: never ever get on his bad side.

With my pulse thumping and my brain temporarily out of order, I am unable to immediately locate my car and we wander aimlessly through the parking lot until Security Guy grabs my arm and stops me.

“You don’t remember where you’re parked,” he accuses, with one eyebrow raised.

“Um, let me think a minute.”  Okay, it’s a confession of sorts, and so what?  I’d like to see how clearly most of you would be thinking if you were me right now.

“There,” Security Guy says and I turn my head.  He’s pointing to my T-Bird, just two cars away.  We’d walked past it twice.  He grabs my hand and leads me to my car, then slyly slips the keys away from me.  “I’ll drive,” he says.

Okay, now he’s got my attention. I feel much better knowing that he’ll be behind the wheel.  No way should I be driving while I’m under the influence of him.  And, anyway, Kitsap is a much safer place with people like me strapped into the passenger seat.

I manage to steer him in the right direction and five minutes before we turn onto my street, I begin to have second, and even third, thoughts.  My brain has begun to function again.  What if Security Guy is really a crazy guy?  What if he’s not really this cool, tough good guy?  I glance down at his lower pant leg, looking for the bulge of a second gun that I know he carries.  Nothing.  My gaze moves up, up, up to his thigh and I shamelessly pause for a beat.  Still nothing…at least nothing that might be made of steel.

Once again, the back of my sweater is soaked with sweat and I’m stuck to the seat.  I know I’ll probably drip when I get out of the car, but so long as Security Guy keeps his hands to himself, odds are he won’t notice.  Wishful thinking on my part.  And if he does notice, maybe he’ll just think I’m experiencing some kind of hot flash or some other female affliction. I am approaching mid-life, after all.

I ignore the sweat situation and try to act as though it’s no big deal that he’s here at my home.  But it is a big deal. He’s a stranger.  Well, he’s not a total stranger.  Technically, I do know him.  But his being here is strange.  And when he fills my doorway, I’m in awe.  Or maybe it’s fear.  But how do I know?  Both emotions have a tendency to make my pulse race.

I look away, silently chastising myself for being such a scaredy cat.  What could possibly happen?  It’s not like he’s ever done anything to make me think he might do me bodily harm.  Still, when he reaches for me, I start to recoil.  But I’m too slow and he’s too fast and his arms surround me.

“What’s wrong, honey?  You don’t want to let me in?  You afraid?”

I look into his eyes and see nothing but warmth, but my nerves are shot and I giggle nervously.  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not afraid of you.  You gave me a car, didn’t you?  You’re Security Guy, the hero in my book.  You’re one of the good guys…”  I step aside, knowing that I sound like a rambling idiot girl, but it can’t be helped.  I tend to do that when I’m under extreme stress.

He puts his hands in my hair, pulls my mouth closer to his and I feel a whimper form in my throat.  “Are you sure I’m one of the good guys?  I could be bad,” he says.

Gulp.  I can barely breathe, but idiot girl that I am, I manage to ask, “How bad?”

Security Guy waggles his eyebrows again.  I’m not sure if that means he can be really bad or really good, in a bad way, but at this point, I don’t care, because the fear or anticipation or whatever I’m feeling is killing me anyway, so I relax into him, close my eyes, and tilt my head up for a kiss.  I mean, why fight the inevitable?

I hear him laugh softly and then, “Why don’t you just tell me what you want?”

Huh?  What’s that supposed to mean?  As if it’s totally my idea to kiss and…and whatever.  But now I’m feeling a little embarrassed.  Is it possible that he really is a good guy and that he hasn’t come all this way to slip off my black lace Vicki’s?  Yeah, whatever—and no way am I going to let him see how silly I feel at this moment.

Tucking my fingers into his thick black hair, I put everything I’ve got into it as I meld my lips to his.  Immediately his tongue does a happy dance inside my mouth and I swear I can almost hear a choir singing in the background.  But, wait—.  That’s not a choir.  That’s my baby girl, Sierra, chortling to me from up in the bedroom.  She’s somehow gotten herself locked inside and she wants out.

But before I can respond to her plea, and before Security Guy and I do something neither one of us will regret, I need to break contact with him.  Finally, my eyes stop rolling around in my head, and I tear my lips from his.  “That’s my dog.  She wants out,” I say as I nod toward the staircase.  I don’t wait for his response as I head up, but three steps into the climb, I hear footsteps behind me.  It’s not my overworked imagination.  Security Guy is following me.  Upstairs.  Oh boy. That’s where the bedrooms are.

Want to find out what happens next?  Check back on or around May 10…